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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26667502">Lost</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexiha/pseuds/Dexiha'>Dexiha</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Drarry Drabbles [25]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coma, Draco is lost in life without Harry, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hermione is doing her best to be a good friend too, Hospital, It's ironic it's funny when eyes see perfection they cry, M/M, Mention of previous Ron/Hermione relationship, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Previously Secret Relationship, Ron is a really good friend, Ron is actually a really really really good friend, Songfic, Why would you leave me you know I'm no good on my own, harry is in a coma, mention of divorce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:20:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>966</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26667502</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexiha/pseuds/Dexiha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>◊</p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p>
    <i>Why would you leave me, you know I'm no good on my own?</i>
  </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p>◊</p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p>An accident. He's in the hospital. He's not dead, but he's not <i>here</i> either. How could he leave me?</p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p>◊</p>
</div>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Drarry Drabbles [25]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/799809</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Link to First Light (feat. Spencer Jones) by Cinematic Pop, which inspired this fic can be found <a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/6nPnqcRHSpNLthYvqj9oqp?si=qeGZTE-5RQuH1FS7V2RCSw">here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Everything is white. The walls. The floors. The ceilings. The windowsills. The curtains. The bedsheets. White, white and more white. Occasionally, the white is disturbed by some steely grey, such as the bedposts and the buttons on the beeping machines that stand beside the one occupied bed. The grey doesn’t bring any comfort at all. It makes everything seem even more washed out. Lifeless.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>He</em> looks the same.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>All the books are wrong. They say that people are supposed to look like they’re peacefully sleeping when they lie unconscious on hospital beds.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Harry doesn’t look peaceful. He doesn’t look like he’s resting. He looks... as lifeless as the rest of the interior in this stupid room at St. Mungo’s. His cheeks are sunken in, his skin looks ashen. He looks dead.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s hard to stay convinced that, at some point, probably, hopefully, he’ll wake up.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s been two months since he got “stable”. Since they said all that could be done further on was wait. Wait and wait and wait even more.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I sit by his side day out and day in. I forget to eat, so it’s a good thing Mother comes by every other day with a small basket. I forget to sleep, but there’s nothing she can do to help me with that.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ron comes by at least once every day. He can’t stay very long most times, too much to do as a single dad since he and Hermione got divorced. But sometimes he stays the entire afternoon. He doesn’t talk, but his presence is somehow more consoling in silence than it would’ve if he tried to comfort me.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I admire how he’s accepted me. He didn’t know about our relationship before the accident. He didn’t know about me being part of Harry’s life at all before he found me broken in a hospital corridor while the mediwix performed their best to keep Harry alive.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He cast one glance at me, then helped me stand up, guiding me to a quieter room. He fixed a cup of coffee, filled with too much sugar, but that was necessary for me to drink it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He hasn’t questioned me once.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Hermione hasn’t been here more than a handful of times. Probably because, just like me, she thinks Harry looks too lifeless, and she can’t bear the sight.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I can’t bear it either, but I’d rather watch him like this for the rest of my life than not see him at all.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I know she hasn’t given up on him, she has just never been very strong when it comes to emotions. Her forte isn’t feelings, because they can’t be tamed by logic, by the mind.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s good that she keeps a distance, because if she doesn’t, she’ll break, and she’s of no use to anyone, to Harry, then.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She’s the one that brings me Harry’s clothes. She always brings two sets; one for Harry, one for me. I can’t stand wearing my own clothes anymore. I crave the soft fabrics of Harry’s jumpers, the soft scent of cinnamon that always clings to his shirts.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Why would you leave me, you know I’m no good on my own?!”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I know it’s unfair, Harry didn’t want to leave me, and he hasn’t really left. He hasn’t given up. He’s fighting to get back. But the fact is, he isn’t here with me right now. Not really. I’m on my own, despite all the people helping me, trying to hold me upright. I’m all on my own.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You know I’m no good on my own.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>//∆\\</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“It’s ironic, it’s funny, when eyes see perfection they cry.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>In the beginning, I didn’t cry. I couldn’t quite comprehend that he was on the verge of dying, that he wasn’t going to suddenly sit up and hug me tightly, saying he had just taken a little nap but had missed me too much to stay asleep.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When I finally realised that this wasn’t true, I cried for days on end. It didn’t matter how many food baskets Mother brought, I wouldn’t eat. Couldn’t do anything but let my tears fall and my sobs shake through my chest.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Then I began to sing. Rarely any words, just melodies that came into my mind, hoping the sounds would bring Harry back.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>This far, it hasn’t. But I’m not giving up. It’s all I can do. Every night, I let the tones sound through the hospital room. And every morning, I go quiet, since the rising sun reminds me that yet another day has started, and I’m still on my own. And I cry again.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It's ironic, because when my gaze finally meet green eyes, I cry again. Those green eyes that are what I’ve been waiting for. Those green eyes that show me that everything will finally be alright. Those green eyes that are perfection.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>There is still a long time until he’s fine, until he’s healed. But at least I’m not on my own anymore. And I don’t spare another moment before I ask him to marry me.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Those green eyes shine with happiness and life, and he whispers yes. Ron arrives a few minutes later, and I ask him for the rings I know he got me after the first week I spent at the hospital. His grin grows impossibly wider as he brings them out of his pockets.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Harry slides one of the silver bands onto my finger. I put the other one on his, smiling as I can feel warmth even in his fingertips.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Smiling into his kiss.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Smiling, because Ron and Hermione are now at ending beside us, sharing my love for him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Yes. Smiling, because I love him, and I’m not on my own anymore.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I’m no good on my own. But there’s perfection when I’m with him.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Great, you finished. After you're done with leaving kudos and a comment or two, I'd highly recommend you to take a look at <a href="https://ununquadius.tumblr.com/post/629982595761012736/not-good-on-his-own">this</a> drabble that Ununquadius has written, inspired by the same song as this one. However, I must also advice you to heed the warnings and tags on it, since it's got MCD. <br/>Now I hope you'll go on to have a wonderful day &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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